


Littlewood's Law

by HooahSergeant



Series: The Law Series [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Cop Drama, F/F, FBI Agent Quinn Fabray, Future Fic, Original Character(s), non-linear time line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HooahSergeant/pseuds/HooahSergeant
Summary: Sometimes a chance event is a miracle in disguise. Rachel Berry's day started out so normal, then in a second, and with one word, it all changed.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Series: The Law Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693714
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

Littlewood's Law states that individuals can expect a "miracle" to happen to them at the rate of about one per month. Littlewood defines a miracle as an exceptional event of special significance occurring at a frequency of one in a million.  
\------  
It would have been considered a 'normal' day in Rachel Berry land.

'Would' being the operative word.

Rachel rolled her eyes at herself as she pondered the various books in front of her. A not-so-closeted Barnes & Noble lover she once again had found herself drawn in from the cold of New York in December to hide. The smell of hot coffee and books was irresistible, as always, and she wondered once again if there was a way to bottle the scent. She'd rolled her eyes because as she'd perused the various book shelves a stray thought had wandered through her mind and it was, honestly, eye roll worthy.

A Berry good day so far, it should be celebrated with a new book purchase!

The fact was, Rachel's social skills weren't exactly up to standard, at least that's what her therapist had said when Rachel had told her she didn't seem to be able to make friends. Finally successful, finally the Rachel Berry - instead of just Rachel (or worse, Rachel ManHands Berry), and she was so happy, except when she wasn't.

It's lonely at the top, was a common thread she chased around in her head. She knew it was cliche, but it was proving true. Because she was, she was lonely and buying books to occupy what precious little free time she had instead of going out with castmates or heaven forbid dating someone.

With a deep sigh, Rachel turned from the 'self-help' section and ambled in the direction of the Starbucks. The delicious aroma promised an escape from her melancholy. If only for a brief moment.

She waited somewhat impatiently in line, eyes casting about the quietly busy store. She smiled to herself at all the parents and kids in the children's section. It was nice to see that some parents still encouraged an interest in reading for fun. Rachel herself had several fond memories of library trips with her father's. She watched as a small blonde girl, hair in pigtails, tugged on her mothers jean clad leg and held a book up for inspection. The woman's grin was bright as she took the proffered item and gushed over the choice, obviously exaggerating her joy but the little girl only beamed up that much brighter at the praise. 

Rachel felt the pang in her chest she always did when she saw things like that. She swiftly turned her attention back to her coffee quest. 

The warmth of her green tea (because she still couldn't handle coffee) in her hand helped her re-center, she took a cautious sip as she stepped away from the counter and hummed to herself at the smooth taste. It was still a little hot, but soothing, just like it always was, and she knew the warm feeling in her stomach would help when she eventually left the bookstore.

She was trying to decide what genre to go dig through next when it happened.

"Rachel?"

She froze, because Rachel Berry had a near perfect auditory memory and she knew that voice - she still heard it sometimes, in her dreams and even haunting her waking moments.

"Rupaul."

"Man-hands."

"Treasure Trail."

"You get heartbroken."

So continued the internal tirade while a chill invaded the pit of her stomach. Flashes of long buried history she'd tried to run from streamed through her mind like her own personal Hulu channel. Her hands released on their own and her tea dropped to the floor with a splat and the hollow sound of her cup bouncing then rolling on the tile. She knew her mouth was open and that her eyes had widened.

Her hands were shaking.

"Quinn?"

It came out a whisper, a whimper, an utterance of disbelief that begged it all to be some sort of horrible dream. The only other option she could come up with was that Quinn had spent the last few years hunting her down to finally rid the world of one Rachel Berry.

She decided she would have to face this figment (because that's exactly what this was) and hope that she woke up soon, at home in her recliner. So slowly she turned, still terrified of looming doom and death. 

In front of her, still impossibly beautiful, Quinn Fabray. In all her annoyingly shiny glory. Blonde hair loose and smooth, hazel eyes just as vibrant, she half expected to see a baby doll dress - or worse, the dreaded Cheerios uniform. But new Quinn was wearing a suit with a light blue button up on underneath. 

To her horror the former cheerleader was smiling.

Definitely a nightmare.

"Oh my God!" Quinn yelped and rushed in to give her a hug. "Rachel, I can't believe it!"

Me either, Rachel mused and awkwardly returned the other woman's embrace. "Hello, Quinn."

"Hi," Quinn's smile put the sun to shame, though it fell when she glanced down at the fallen tea cup. "I'm sorry for startling you, could I buy you a new drink? Maybe we could catch up for a bit? I mean, I'm sure you're busy. I see posters for your show all the time but I'd love to have a cup of coffee with you, if you're game?"

Rachel blinked slowly in response to the rapid-fire tirade. She'd always been known for her ability to talk at a million miles per hour, she wasn't used to hearing it from other people. Let alone the blonde haired woman whom she'd once thought was the devil in a cheerleading uniform. "I - uh - yeah, I've got a little bit of time, we could sit over there?" She gestured limply off towards the side of the Starbucks attachment where a few tables were set.

The other woman nodded and jerked her thumb back towards the newly formed line of downtrodden awaiting their dose of happy. "I'll be right there. What were you drinking?"

"Green tea," she answered simply. Swaying slightly she watched Quinn dart off for the back of the line.

It had started off as a normal day.

Her normal day was about to get weirder it seemed.

Situated in the chair closest to the exit in case she needed to make a quick get away (or Santana showed up too) Rachel cupped her hands around her replica cup of tea and stared at her company. Quinn sipped at her venti black coffee and seemed to be ignoring the fact that Rachel was staring, her eyes tracked the people outside the window. Finally the hazel-green eyes drifted back to meet Rachel's gaze over the lip of her cup. 

"How have you been, Rachel?"

A simple question, and yet Rachel felt like there was a spotlight on her. "I, well, busy I suppose."

"You must be! I really do see your posters up everywhere. I brag to people that I went to High School with you once upon a time. That's probably really lame of me to say now, after everything. I am proud of you though, you know?"

"Really?" She tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice and almost succeeded. Almost.

"Yes, really. You did it, Rachel. Despite everything, you got your dream and that's a very cool thing. You must be so proud."

Shocked at this new turn, Rachel shook her head and cleared her throat. "I am, most days. When you're younger you don't always think about everything your dream entails."

"I'm not on Broadway, so I can't really imagine what it must be like, but I think I understand what you're getting at."

“In Lima I was special, in New York?" She scoffed and gestured outside at the bustling street. 

"One of a million hopefuls. Talented hopefuls. It was so much harder than I’d been expecting, I didn’t stand out like I thought I would. I had to change and grow up, it sucked. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve always been determined I’d be a barista still, dreaming of singing on a stage instead of in the shower." She paused, to catch her breath and to decide whether or not to confess the words in her mind. Would it hurt to hear them? She wasn't sure, at all. Cocking her head she shrugged one slim shoulder and barreled right on ahead. "I actually should thank you, all the verbal beatings I learned to take saved me a lot of heartache out here in the real world. I actually think about you a lot, every time something horrible happens to me or is said I revert back to that 16 year old with slushie on her face and I’m stronger for it.”

When she looked up again Quinn was wincing.

“Wow. I feel like a complete asshole,” She said and reached out to lightly touch the back of Rachel's hand.

Surprised by the contact, again initiated by ice queen Fabray, Rachel felt a little bad for throwing that on the other woman. She'd been nothing but kind thus far. So she laughed to try and ease the tension she'd caused, “I’m sorry, that compliment was full of knuckles wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I earned it and probably more," Quinn smiled again, but it wasn't nearly as big as her earlier toothy grin. This was sadder and Rachel couldn't help but kick herself again. This is why we don't have friends you big jerk!

“I don’t think so," She sighed by way of apology, hoping the blonde would see that she meant it.

She shrugged, “You know, I think about you too.”

“Really?” Another surprise, the new version of William McKinley's HBIC seemed to be full of them.

“Yeah. Sometimes I see your hair or your eyes, or even just someone short and I think ‘Rachel’. I remember that girl too, the one wearing an owl sweater and cherry slushie." She shifted, and their eyes caught again. The emotion behind those hazel eyes gripped hard at Rachel's heart and squeezed.

Save us! Lighten the mood! Oh god, lighten the mood!

“Ugh. Cherry is the worst," She laughed again and mentally rolled her eyes at herself yet again.

“No way, blue-berry. Seriously, it dyed my skin.”

“Well if you weren’t see-through pale it wouldn’t be a problem," Rachel quirked an eyebrow and pointed at her. 

“Hey! Easy on the skin! I'll have you know in certain cultures I'd be worshiped for my porcelain visage," She waved a hand at her own body, and Rachel unconsciously tracked the movement. Her eyes slipped over the power suit, hanging just a second too long at skin exposed by the button up.

“Yes, you're absolutely correct. But not our culture," She snarked back when she remembered how to speak - and breathe.

"Touche," The blonde winked.

She cleared her throat again, "Thank you. So what do you do Quinn? I'm a little behind in conversation points here."

"You keep score? Never mind, of course you do. I work for the FBI."

"Really?" God, was there an echo? "Special Agent Fabray?"

"Special Agent 'in Charge' Fabray - the 'in Charge' part is very important. It's kind of like Captain Jack Sparrow. The Captain is a must, so is 'in Charge'."

She couldn't help but laugh as her mind filled with Quinn as 'Captain Quinn Fabray', complete with hat and heavy eye make-up, minus the beard. "Wow, I don't know what to say, Quinn! How did you - how did it happen? The FBI?"

"Well, I went to Georgetown University, Majored in Psychology, graduated and... I wanted to do something honorable, you know? After spending so much time being power hungry and awful I wanted to do something to help people. I looked into the Military but ended up speaking to an Agent at a bookstore and here I am." She shrugged and tilted her head. "Plus, someone once told me I was the prettiest girl they'd ever met, but I was 'more'. I wanted to live up to that."

"Sounds like a wise person," Rachel squeaked.

"She is."

"So a selfless, honorable, FBI agent - next you'll be telling me you have a soul or something," She settled her chin on her hand and narrowed her eyes playfully. Damn it, she was being charmed, knew it, and couldn't help it.

"Or something."

Rachel smiled, finally feeling at ease and started to ask another question when Quinn's phone went off. The blonde shot her an apologetic glance and scooped up the blackberry. "Fabray," she said.

'Fabray' Rachel mouthed, amused because she'd always thought people only answered the phone that way in movies. She busied herself with her beverage, wanting to eavesdrop so badly but not wanting to be too obvious about it.

"Alright. No, I'll be right there, I'm just down the block. Make sure to... right, you know that. Thanks, Ryan." Quinn closed out her call and looked up apologetically, "I have to go."

"So I gathered," She smiled at the woman she might always see as HBIC Fabray in a pleated red skirt and gold cross. "That's okay, you've got bad guys to catch."

"Always," She laughed. 

"Do you think - " Here she hesitated, unsure of the path her thoughts were leading her down. Never one to do anything by half measures, she charged ahead. "Maybe we could meet up again? It'd be nice to see someone familiar on a regular basis and I have to admit, I have several questions about this new Quinn Fabray."

Quinn's grin nearly (just nearly) knocked her over, "Quinn 2.0 would be more than happy to answer your questions." She stretched one pale hand out across the table and Rachel immediately handed over her phone once she'd located it in her bag. Manicured fingers moved over the touch screen while perfect white teeth held her bottom lip hostage - Rachel was pretty much transfixed. "Here, that's my personal cell number, of course, so please don't be offended if I don't pick up immediately. I promise it's not because I'm avoiding you."

She stood and Rachel followed, only then realizing she wasn't sure why she was standing too. The moment turned uncomfortable, Quinn's eyes seemed to be dancing though, as though she was laughing inside at their mutual oddness. Throwing caution to the wind once more Rachel all but threw herself at the taller woman, pulling her into a quick, tight, hug.

"It was so good to see you, Special Agent in Charge Fabray," She said with a smirk. 

"Not as good as it was to see you, Superstar Rachel Berry," Quinn teased right back. She pulled away, a lopsided smile now decorating her stupidly perfect face. "Call me."

"Yes ma'am," Rachel nodded.

Then with a wave Quinn was gone.

Rachel slumped back into her seat and threw back the rest of her tea like a particularly nasty shot of tequila.

What just happened?


	2. Chapter 2

AN: An interesting question popped up in a review and I felt compelled to answer. It is not a violation of OPSEC for Agents to disclose their employment with the FBI unless they’re undercover. Not that they run around announcing it, that would be silly, but if asked what they do for a living most will proudly and happily tell you.

\- Sarge

\---

"Wait, just wait, back up," Ryan shook his dark head, "what?"

Exasperated Quinn tossed her hands in the air, "This is not that complicated!"

"Maybe you just suck at explaining things then, because color me confused. I've known you forever, Q-ball, and despite knowing a ton of delicious secrets you've never said a word about this. About her. This is like some weird secret, epic, day time television screenplay. Give me a second to man it down."

She snorted a laugh at 'man it down' and held up a finger, effectively pausing their conversation while she peeked her head up to look through the driver side window. The two Agents were sitting in their nondescript sedan, seats reclined as far back as they would go. Across the road a reedy man stood, beanie over his longish hair, twitching from one foot to the other, hands shoved deep in his pockets. So far, two hours in, and he was still alone. Quinn sighed and flopped back into her seat, eyes fixed on the vehicle ceiling, "Still nada."

"I hate to say it, boss, but we don't even know if he'll make a sale tonight," Ryan shrugged. "I'm thinking you shouldn't have bet on it."

"Then I guess we'll be out here all night for nothing," Quinn snapped.

"Wow, this Rachel thing's got you all fired up," He teased and crossed his arms over his chest.   
"Let me see if I've got this all correct. This is the woman who you had a crush on in High School. The one you bullied because you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you had romantic feelings for another girl?"

"Yes," She grumped.

"Okay, so closeted teen, I get it. After High School you came to grips with the fact that you are, in fact, a lesbian, thus crushing the dreams of every man you've ever met or will meet. Left a long trail of exes and broken hearts, but never ceased pining for the 'one that got away'?"

"Yes?" Smirking she turned to look at him. His eyebrows were both up at his hairline and his thumbs warred with each other against his broad chest. The picture of Special Agent Ryan Peterson deep in thought. "Though that's definitely a very dramatic way to look at it. Also, I wouldn't say 'one who got away'. Have you been watching day time television again?"

"Shush, I'm working my way through this complex web of... webbery. Where were we? Oh, present day. By some miracle you ran into this woman, Rachel Berry, who's some sort of Broadway goddess apparently. You startle her with your mutant ninja stalker skills, causing her to spill her drink and offer to buy her a new one. Then you proceeded to bulldoze the poor thing with your brutal charms and ultimately gave her your phone number." He paused on a large inhale and glanced at her. She rolled her lips together to keep from laughing and nodded. "Now you're waiting for her to call you and driving me up the wall by constantly asking if I heard your phone ring... when you're not staring at it obsessively?"

"In a nutshell," Quinn winced at the description. She had been guarding her phone as of late, ready to pounce at the first ring. That didn't make it any less embarrassing to hear.

"It's kind of fun," He chuckled. "I've enjoyed calling you from outside your office just to watch you fall all over yourself to answer the phone."

"Shut up, Marine," She growled and peeked over the door again. Still nothing. 

"You know, now that I think about it, this is lesbian literature gold. You could write up a novel or script and make a nugget when it becomes the next Twilight-type drama."

"A 'nugget'? What is wrong with you?" She snorted, "And what do you know about lesbian literature? Enjoying a little reading on the side, Ryan?"

"Too many questions, you're going to overload my fragile brain," He whined and poked her ribs playfully.

"You're such an ass."

"I'm your best friend, know what that makes you? An ass lover," He winked and laughed while she glared at him. "Look, Quinn, all joking aside - you are the most scarily patient person I've ever met. Seriously, it's creepy. You just need to use that, throw a little patience at this Rachel thing. I've never seen you get turned down, which is ridiculous, and I refuse to believe that the universe would concoct this situation for no reason. You ran into each other in this city. The odds of that happening are astronomical, especially considering how long it's been and that you were in DC before. That says something to me. You're going to steal this woman's heart, Q, and never give it back."

"You and your fate crap," Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes to hide how touched she was. 

"I know, me and my fate crap."

"Let's just cross our fingers," She leaned up yet again and peered across the street - just in time to see another man approach their drug dealer. Slapping at Ryan to get his attention she narrowed her eyes and watched, they had to wait for him to actually make the exchange and then... 

Unlocking her door she grinned triumphantly at him, "You owe me a drink." With that she darted out of the car, leaving him to scramble after her.

"Shit."

\---

The next day found Quinn standing over her polished oak desk, hands flat against the surface, eyes dancing over the various papers scattered about. She sighed and rolled her shoulders, the late night had taken its toll and she made a quick mental note to get a massage if she could find the time. Rubbing at the back of her neck she snatched up a folder and scanned the surveillance photo.

"Agent Fabray?"

Quinn hummed her response, too focused on her work to bother with looking up.

"You have a visitor," Ryan said and cleared his throat at the end.

She lifted an eyebrow but didn't pull her eyes off the grainy photograph, "A visitor? Would you care to elaborate on what sort of visitor I'll be receiving?"

"Hello Agent Fabray," A warm voice she'd recognize anywhere pleasantly greeted.

Her head snapped up and sure enough there she was, Rachel Berry, standing next to a smirking Ryan with a shy grin on her lips.

Immediately she felt her mood lift, an answering smile pulling at her lips as she placed her work back down. "Hi," Was all she could manage.

Ryan shot her a knowing look, "I'm going to the break room to see if I can scrounge up some dregs of left over coffee. You need anything, boss?"

"No, thank you Agent Peterson," Quinn made sure to give him a clear 'I told you so' look. As he backed away from the petite Diva he rolled his eyes up comically and mouthed 'oh my GOD!' with a thumbs up. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and walked around her desk to escort Rachel fully into her office. "Sorry, it's a little intimidating in here."

"No, I mean yes, it is, but it's a lovely office Quinn, really. You have quite the view," Her wide brown eyes took in the city while Quinn took in Rachel. She wasn't dressed up, but wasn't as casual as she'd been in the bookstore either. Quinn had discovered that day just how much she loved Rachel Berry in denim. Today it was the thick dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that captured Quinn's attention and refused to let it go.

We are so pathetic, her inner nag bemoaned.

"I suppose I do," Quinn toyed with her fingers and cursed her sudden nervousness. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Rachel sat in one of the chair's facing Quinn's desk and rather than walk around and sit back in her much coveted desk chair Quinn chose to sit next to her. The brunette beamed at her and fiddled with the bag in her lap. "I know I was supposed to call but I admit I was curious, I wanted to see this place."

Quinn leaned back and waved an arm to indicate her office, "Here it is."

"Yes, here it is and here you are," Rachel ducked her head. "I'm very impressed."

A warm flutter invaded Quinn's stomach at the admission, “I’m flattered."

The Broadway star nodded her dark head and resumed her perusal of Quinn's office. "I should probably tell you why I'm here so you can get back to work."

Not wanting to seem overly anxious or eager, Quinn merely tilted her head and smiled to encourage the woman to continue.

"I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, or rather, call at all," Rachel started and blushed adorably. "I actually picked the phone up several times with intent to do so but got nervous. It's still hard for me to disassociate you from the Quinn I remember."

She winced at that, wondering if she'd ever fully escape the old Quinn Fabray. It felt a bit like she was Dr. Jekyll, always trying to atone for Mr. Hyde.

"Then I decided since I was curious about your work anyway, and because I feel better seeing you in person, to come down here to ask if maybe you'd like to get a drink with me?" She said the last part in a rush, and then stared at her expectantly.

Quinn could have danced around the room shouting Hallelujahs to the heavens.

Instead she smiled as widely as she could and said, "Absolutely!"

Rachel grinned right back, "Excellent, when are you free?"

"Any time, really. I have some paperwork to finish up this afternoon and could meet you as early as tonight. I'm sure you've got the harder schedule to work around Superstar." Excitement lit up her body, making her feel giddy. She could already hear Ryan in the back of her mind, teasing her for what she knew to be a dopey look on her face.

"I could meet up later tonight, but it would be much later. When is curfew for Federal Agents these days?"

Quinn snorted a laugh, "You tell me when you're available and I'll be there. There's always something for me to work on here until you can break free."

"How about I call, and I actually will this time, when I'm finished?" Rachel stood and Quinn thought she noted a little bounce in the Diva's steps.

"Perfect," She walked with Rachel to the door, "Hold on, you'll have to be escorted out."

As soon as she'd said her goodbyes and walked back into her office Ryan reappeared. "Ugh. Gossip hound," she jibed playfully.

"Can I just say, for the record? Caliente!"

Quinn sputtered and choked on the cold coffee she'd taken a swig of, "Ryan, you made me waste shitty coffee! Why do you have to say things like that?" She dropped into her leather chair but couldn't keep the angry expression on her face. "Caliente - you don't even speak Spanish, pendejo." 

"No, but seriously? I hate you - Q, that woman is sex on a stick," He whined as he fell into the chair Rachel had vacated. "Did she say yes? Tell me she said yes and you're going out for drinks... and if you're not would you be horribly offended if I tried my luck? I mean, those legs?   
Yes, please!"

Even though she knew he was teasing she still bristled, "Hey! I know she's gorgeous but could you try not being a dick? Or stop thinking with it at least?"

"Sorry, Q," He dropped his smirk instantly and looked so thoroughly chastened that she threw him a bone.

"She is smokin' hot though."

"You think?"


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel had spent most of her evening trying to prepare herself to see Quinn again. Not just with the four different outfits she’d gone through trying to find the ‘right’ one – more so mentally. Because, despite the fact that in person she found Agent Fabray to be lovely, it was still Quinn Fabray and to say she was feeling apprehensive would be putting it mildly. After she’d left the blonde’s office she’d been bombarded with memories of Babygate, Finn, and all sorts of things she had barely thought about anymore. Then on her way home, every time she saw someone walking on the street with a beverage, she flinched – and she hadn’t done that since her first year in New York.

“Oh my God, I have slushie PTSD!” She’d wailed once safely back inside her apartment.

That had been hours ago, and now she was sitting comfortably in a booth at her favorite bar, awaiting her high school nemesis so that they could chat over drinks like old girlfriends.

She sighed and took a deep drink of her cocktail, wondering for the millionth time how her world could have gotten so muddled so quickly - with herself as an accomplice, no less.

“Is this seat taken?”

Rachel jerked and looked up with bright hazel eyes. She stared. She couldn’t help it and hoped her jaw wasn’t hanging open. Quinn wasn’t wearing the suit she’d had on in her office. Instead she was wearing, well, normal clothes. Dark jeans, a low cut shirt, and a leather bomber jacket that Rachel would never expected to see over the blonde’s shoulders. She looked so at ease and comfortable, and it boggled Rachel’s brain.

“Hi,” she squeaked, and Quinn frowned down at herself, having caught on to her stare.

“What? Did I spill something on myself already?”

“No, I –“ Rachel swallowed and cursed herself, “I guess I’m still looking for those cute dresses.”

“Oh.” Quinn shrugged and gestured at the empty seat. Rachel nodded and the other woman gracefully slid in, still smiling as she settled. “I still have some, and I wear them when I can. They’re just really not practical in my line of work.”

Images of the former cheerleader chasing down criminals in a sunnily colored dress flitted through Rachel’s mind, and she found herself nodding in agreement. “Yes, I can see how they might be a hindrance in the performance of your duties.”

“What about you? I don’t see any argyle and you’re wearing jeans,” The blonde smirked and waved at the waitress to get her attention then turned back expectantly.

“There’s still some argyle hiding in my wardrobe, don’t you worry. But the skirts were the first thing to go when I moved to New York. I got really tired of having my ass pinched, groped, or slapped.”

Quinn laughed and Rachel grinned, feeling her shoulders relax a touch at the friendly, welcome sound. This could be easy, she thought, I think I could actually get along and genuinely like this woman. Quinn 2.0 isn’t scary at all! She watched her company order her drink and knew it was all going to be alright when Quinn sent her a sly little wink whilst speaking with the waitress.

“So you have questions, I have questions – we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Want to start?”

“Are you kidding? I have a list,” Rachel gushed and held onto her laughter until the blondes startled look faded back into amusement.

“You’re pulling my leg!” She accused and shook her head when Rachel burst into laughter.

“No, no list with gold star stickers as bullet points,” She promised the agent. “I do have several questions though.”

“Shoot.”

“First and foremost, what exactly is it that you do? I don’t know how this works, if you can tell me or whatever, but... can you tell me?” Sitting back she pulled her drink along and took another sip from it. Quinn looked thoughtful at the question, her head tilted to one side. Her blonde hair spilled silkily over her shoulder. Rachel made mental note to inquire after the brand of hair care products the other woman was using.

“For the most part I can answer questions,” Quinn said and paused to happily accept her martini from the waitress. “But I may not be able to tell you everything. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Rachel nodded, curiosity even further piqued by the mystery. “What do you do, Quinn?”

“I work with the Violent Crimes Unit,” She answered without hesitation. “Which is precisely what it sounds like.”

“Elaborate?”

“My team mostly works catching murderers, though we occasionally get called in to assist with kidnappings, drug busts, and the like.”

“You, Quinn Fabray, investigate murder?”

She nodded, “Shocking, right?”

“A little, especially considering I’d always thought you’d end up as a model or something along those lines.” Rachel looked back into those dancing eyes across the table from her and couldn’t believe the girl she knew had grown into this woman. “Most of the time when someone said FBI I thought about Miss Congeniality.”

“Oh god,” Quinn groaned and dropped her head into her hands, “Seriously Rachel? We have to fix that.”

Shrugging and smiling Rachel tentatively reached out and poked Quinn’s hand. “I said most of the time. I haven’t seen the movies but I know that Hannibal Lecter has something to do with the FBI too.”

Her hands fell away and the incredulous look on her face only made Rachel grin that much wider, “That’s almost worse.”

“Sorry. Moving on?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” Rachel thought for a moment. She had so many questions to ask and didn’t know where to start. “Have you ever kicked a door in?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, and then rolled her eyes skyward, “Um, I’ve kicked in six doors in my career thus far. Agent Peterson usually does the kicking. It makes him feel manly.”

“Agent Peterson is your partner?”

“I don’t have an assigned partner. We work in teams, but I suppose he’s the closest thing I have to being the Mulder to my Scully.”

“What about high speed pursuits?”

“Two, and I never want to do that ever again,” Quinn said firmly.

Tapping a finger against her chin, Rachel pondered her next question for a moment. She knew she was monopolizing the conversation, but Quinn didn’t seem to mind - she was smiling and sipping at her drink, and never once took her eyes away or acted like she was bored.

It was nice.

“You carry a gun?”

Her smile fell, just a little, “Yes, I do.”

"What kind?" Not that she would know anything Quinn could answer with, but she was keeping excellent mental notes. Google was her best friend, after all.

"Standard issue Glock 23. It's a compact .40, easier to conceal than the Glock 22, and it fits better in my smaller hands."

Rachel giggled - she'd sounded a bit like she imagined the FBI field manual would sound like.

“Have you ever shot anyone?”

Now her spine stiffened and Rachel realized her mistake. Quinn’s face fell even as she straightened up, instantly looking uncomfortable and so sad that it took Rachel’s breath away.

“I have,” she said after a long moment of silence, and dropped her gaze to stare down into her drink. “I pray every time that it’s the last time I have to do that.”

Swallowing hard Rachel put her hand out again, slid it over the top of Quinn’s and squeezed warmly, “I’m sorry Quinn. I shouldn’t have asked.”

The hand under hers rotated so their palms met and squeezed back, “It’s alright, you didn’t know and I should’ve been more prepared for the question.”

New topic, new topic, new topic! Her brain shrieked as she pulled her hand back. Think of something!

“So, other than keeping the city safe from psychopaths, what have you been up to?”

Quinn breathed a sigh and then her smile was back in full force, soothing Rachel’s nerves, “Not much. I’m a bit of a hermit these days. What about you, though? I’m sure your life is full of glamorous events and parties?”

“Well, there are some, but I kind of keep to myself, as well. Being in the spotlight is wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but it also taught me to cherish my private life.”

“Private life? My turn to pry,” Quinn grinned and Rachel braced herself. For what, she wasn’t sure, but she was going to be ready for it. “So are you and Finn…?”

It was Rachel’s turn to choke on her drink. The alcohol stung as she coughed and laughed in the same breath. “Oh God, no, that’s been over with for years. I haven’t even thought of Finn Hudson in – wow, talk about a trip down memory lane!”

“I thought maybe you two were going to be that weird statistic that got married after High School. You know ‘fated’, ‘match made in heaven’, all that.”

“Ha, so did we.” Rachel snorted, remembering bumbling but ultimately sweet Finn Hudson and their ‘epic’ romance. It had fizzled out shortly after Sophomore year of college. Between the distance and the fact that Finn discovered just how many other girls were outside the small world of Lima, Ohio, their relationship had come to a sudden stop with one phone call. “It just didn’t work out that way. We both realized that while we cared about each other, we just weren’t right for one another. My goals and his didn’t work together. I’m not seeing anyone right now, actually. What about you? I’m guessing a lawyer or someone like that – maybe someone you work with? Agent Peterson is pretty easy on the eyes.”

Quinn barked a laugh, “Ryan is very easy on the eyes, I can’t deny that, but he’s not my type, so to speak. And I will definitely never date another lawyer. Ever.”

“Ah-ha! So you did date a lawyer?” Rachel asked, thinking about how strange it was that someone like the handsome agent she’d met earlier wasn’t Quinn Fabray’s type. He was completely the old Quinn’s type.

“ADA Baker, for a little over a year,” Quinn said slowly, suddenly looking exceedingly nervous. She shifted in her seat and started toying with the stem of her glass, eyes darting all over the room, looking anywhere but at Rachel.

She felt her forehead wrinkle as the name ‘Baker’ danced around her head. She knew that name, she’d heard it before on the… news.

“ADA Baker?” She breathed as recognition dawned. That’s not what she meant, right?

“Yes,” Quinn sighed and winced.

“Assistant District Attorney Laura Baker?” Rachel heard her voice squeak and was instantly appalled at herself. She was making Quinn more uncomfortable, and she could tell, but she couldn’t seem to stop from putting her foot in her mouth. “Quinn Fabray is gay?”

Quinn’s eyes sought hers again dancing with what looked like poorly contained mirth, but also questioning, “Guess I’m really not the Quinn you remember.”

As she tried to wrap her brain around the new info Quinn seemed to relax further. Rachel wondered if the other woman thought she might run at the revelation. She held up a finger, indicating that she needed a second. Quinn merely sipped at her drink and set her chin on her palm, waiting for Rachel’s brain to re-boot.

“You alright?” She asked after a few more seconds, amusement coloring her tone.

“I – yes, just… surprised I think. We fought over Finn,” Rachel murmured, hearing the echo of their fights in her ears. “And you and Puck… Sam.” She shook her head and Quinn shrugged.

“Yeah, it took me a while too.”

“Wow, I just, I never would have guessed,” she said and shook her head again. “How did you, you know, how did it –“

“How did I come to realize and admit to myself that I’m gay?”

“Yes, that.” Unsure if she was offending Quinn with the question, she checked the other woman’s expression and found it still friendly.

“Santana,” she answered and smirked.

“Santana Lopez?” Rachel echoed, and couldn’t help the shudder that worked over her.

“Don’t look so stunned,” Quinn laughed.

“Sorry, again. So you two…?”

“What? No!” Quinn only laughed harder and Rachel felt so confused that she wondered if the alcohol was fueling it. “Oh, no, no. She just kind of, in her own loveable Santana way, helped me deal with the truth.” The blonde finished off her martini and lifted the toothpick and olives from the glass. “And the truth is, I’m gay.”

“Wow,” she breathed again, like a broken record.

“Yeah, you should’ve seen me when I admitted it the first time. I hyperventilated.”

“How did your mother take that?” Rachel asked, thinking about the Fabray’s and their perfect little home with their perfect little family. Until Quinn’s pregnancy and it came out what a bastard Russell Fabray really was. She knew Judy Fabray had taken Quinn back in and attempted to repair their relationship. She hoped Quinn wasn’t about to tell her how her mother had abandoned her again.

“She said, ‘I guess I won’t have to worry about anymore unplanned pregnancies’. End quote.” Quinn rolled her eyes fondly and shrugged.

“That’s amazing.” She didn’t know what else to say to that. She really didn’t know what to say about anything anymore.

“You’re telling me. I almost passed out, I was so scared,” The blonde leaned her head into her hand and nibbled at an olive from her drink. “Can I ask you something?”

“Now would seem the time,” Rachel joked lightly.

The waitress briefly interrupted them, materializing out of nowhere, it seemed, to take their empty glasses and ask about refills.

They both agreed to a refill. Rachel knew she was going to need hers.

“Why did you agree to this? To seeing me again?” Quinn blurted out and then looked sheepish, “I mean, not that I’m complaining. At all. I just wanted to know.”

Well there it is, Rachel mused, “Oh, serious conversation?”

“Yeah, I’m ready, lay it on me.”

“Okay. Here goes. Be warned that this could be lengthy – the liquor doesn’t help,” Taking a steadying breath and a moment to collect her thoughts she began. “Growing up, I told myself that Broadway was all I wanted and that it didn’t matter that I didn’t have friends. I made myself believe that it was better that way. I created this lie that it didn’t hurt, that it shouldn’t hurt, because someday I would be here and the rest of you would be nothing, mean nothing. Just memories. I chased after Finn because I wanted that ‘leading man’ – it all comes back to Broadway, you see.” 

She paused as their refills arrived and took a greedy gulp of hers before charging on. “It was lonely, Quinn. So lonely sometimes that I cried until I couldn’t breathe, and it’s only now when I go home to an empty apartment that I realize all my lies did was make it worse. I don’t know how to make friends. I’m terrified to try, but I want them. So badly. I don’t even hang out with my castmates, and they invite me, because I feel so awkward and like I’m going to mess it up.” 

Her eyes tracked over Quinn’s face as she spoke, and she saw the glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes. “I wanted to be your friend when we were kids, and I didn’t even know why. You didn’t fit into Broadway. You still don’t, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I have the opportunity here, presented again, and despite the fact that I really, really, shouldn’t be, I’m here, trying again.”

Quinn sucked in a huge, shuddery, breath and Rachel felt guilt stirring in her stomach as the blonde struggled in front of her. Finally she reached out and took both of her hands. “Rachel, I know that I can’t make up for it all in one evening, but I want to. God, I want to. I’m so sorry for everything that I did, more sorry than I could ever tell you. If you’ll trust me, and I know it’s hard, but if you can let me in there past all the walls I helped you build, I want to know you.”

Now Rachel had tears swelling in her eyes, she brushed at them with a finger and chuckled soggily. “Why are you doing all this, Quinn?” The blonde was looking at her so earnestly it felt like she could see into her soul or something. “You didn’t have to say anything to me at the bookstore. You chose to. But why, why are you going through all this effort?”

“I just – I want you to know who I am. Really. You know when you’re in high school it seems like it’s the whole world. The friends you have will be yours until death do you part, your boyfriend is your soulmate. Every little thing that goes wrong equals the end of life as you know it.” 

She picked up her drink, apparently also needing the liquid courage. “All those people and all our bullshit teen angst, I look back now… I was wrong a lot, sometimes I got it right, but with you, I know I was wrong. I knew it was wrong then, but I was so scared. The things I said that made sense then, they make me cringe now. I thought my life was over, that I would never be able to crawl my way out of that pit. A pregnant teenager with no home. I was wrong. I’m not making excuses, Rachel; I just need to get this all out.” 

Quinn sighed hard through her nose and Rachel squeezed her hand in sympathy. They weren’t holding anything back and it was a bit like running a marathon. “Every minute of every day we make choices. Who we are. Who we forgive. Who we defend and protect. We choose sides or maybe walk the line between. Straddle the fence between what is, what could be, what should be. This, my job, everything I do and am - it’s the course that I chose to try and find some way to atone for things.”

If she hadn’t been completely taken with Quinn 2.0 before, she was now. Rachel bit into her   
bottom lip and wiped at her eyes again. “Jesus, Quinn,” she said when she could talk again.   
“You’ve grown up.”

The agent graced her with a watery smile. “It’s a work in progress.”

“I like where it’s headed,” Rachel said and cleared her throat.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She lifted her drink and resisted the temptation to drain it all in one go. The burn of it going down her throat felt good. She sighed and shook her head. “Are you always so grown up?”

Quinn grinned. “Nope. Not even in the slightest. I’ve been stewing over all of this for so long and now that you’re here, it’s kind of like I might die if I don’t get it all out. Or there’s the chance that you could walk away after this and I’d never get to tell you how sorry I am. That wouldn’t do at all.”

Stunned again, because it seemed like Quinn would never cease surprising her, Rachel had to tell her, “You’re so different, Quinn.”

“You’re not. You’re exactly how I remember,” she said firmly, burning her up with the intensity in her gaze.

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing,” Rachel laughed, remembering her younger self. Sometimes a memory would strike her out of nowhere and she could honestly say she was embarrassed about some of the things she’d said and done. God, Sunshine Corazon much?

“It is though; it’s a very good thing. You’ve grown up, too, but you’ve still got that same smile, the same fire in your eyes.” She grinned and ducked her head, “The blush, however, is new.”

If anything it just made her blush harder. Rachel rubbed her fingers against her flaming cheeks.   
“No it isn’t, you just didn’t notice before.”

An easy silence fell over them, leaving both women lost in their thoughts.

“You know my dad’s have always said that you were mean because you were scared,” Rachel commented.

Quinn nodded, “I was.”

“Of what?”

“Of how much I liked you – more than I was supposed to.” She blushed prettily with the admission and Rachel felt her mouth fall open.

No fucking way.

“You… you had a crush on me?” She asked, staring at the blonde in front of her in complete   
disbelief.

“So bad,” Quinn laughed, “Come on Rachel, pornographic pictures? Who does that?”

Horny teenage boys… oh! “God, my face is going to catch fire,” she moaned, and scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. Quinn glanced up over her shoulder and winced, prompting Rachel to follow her example and look behind her. A clock hung up on the wall proudly showing off just how late it actually was.

“I should probably go,” Quinn said and Rachel was pretty sure she heard regret. She nodded too, though, because it was that late and about time for her to head home as well.

“Yes, it is that time, unfortunately.”

They sauntered up to the bar together, happily chattering about the musical she was in at the moment. She even managed to get Quinn to agree to go see it. As they paid and started on their way out it struck Rachel just how content she felt. No pressure, no anxiety, she was being herself and for the first time in a long time she didn’t feel like it would end in rejection. Standing outside, side by side waiting for a cab she realized just how much she didn’t want the evening to be over.

“Quinn?”

The agent hummed in response, her eyes slid from the fixed spot on the street to look down at her and a new sort of rush filled her.

“Thank you,” she all but whispered and couldn’t keep her own gaze from falling down to Quinn’s mouth. She’d never, ever wanted to kiss someone so much before. The fact that it was Quinn Fabray just added to the surrealistic situation. But then she saw Quinn looking at her too and it was a different look then before. Still warm, still caring, but there was something else there.

Want.

The tension between them changed in an instant, growing thicker and so charged that it took Rachel’s breath away. She tilted her chin up, a silent invitation.

Quinn brought her mouth down immediately, gently kissing her at first, and then her hand slipped up to cradle Rachel’s head.

Rachel’s knees almost buckled at the first tentative touch of Quinn’s tongue to her lips and she eagerly opened her mouth, allowing the other woman to deepen their kiss. She’d never been kissed so passionately, so thoroughly. She slid her own hands up and curled her fingers against the taller woman’s collarbone, holding on for dear life. Quinn pulled her impossibly closer, gradually slowed their kiss until it softened. Rachel couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her at the utter longing that welled in her chest. She wanted more of this woman, because there was no way now that she would ever get enough of the feeling. She’d found home in Quinn’s arms. When they parted, breathing hard, Rachel shook her head, awestruck.

“Quinn, what is this?” She gasped, and stared up into dark hazel eyes.

“I don’t know. Fate? Karma? Take your pick,” Quinn husked then dipped her head to capture her mouth again.

At that point, Rachel decided she didn’t really care anymore.


End file.
